Separation
by Sophie Capulet
Summary: Some survive the barricade fight, but are separated. Some think they are the only survivors. Special bonds are broken with the connections lost between them. Grantiare searches for the friends who made him believe. Courfeyrac searches for the little boy he was forced to leave behind. The fight isn't over, the fight to find each other again.
1. The night before the fight comes

**Hello again! And yes, another new Les Miserables story from me, bringing my total to five now. I will try and stay up to date with all of them when I have free time. I have had the idea for this new story in my head for a while now, and with the help of Freedom Rose I have developed it into this. It is a little bit darker than my other stories, with the levels of fluff still there. I can ensure you all of that. **

**I really hope that you all like this new story **

If there was any truth to the statement 'the calm before the storm', Grantaire knew that this was one of those moments. The first battle was over and now everyone sat waiting for the National Guard to return for another battle that would leave many lives shattered. With a bottle in his hand, Grantaire found himself looking around at his friends around him, the ones who remained. Fueilly the hardworking fan-maker had been the first to fall killed as he climbed the barricade. A young man who had spent his entire life working to survive and see another day had been killed fighting to give those all that he never had. Hope. Now, his friends sat trying to enjoy the time they had left with their dear friends. Grantaire, along with everyone else who kept such dark thoughts to themselves, knew that the next battle would lead to more of them falling.

Enjolras and Combeferre sat perched near the top of the barricade, keeping watch over the street below them for any sign of the enemies. Joly, Jehan and Bossuet sat playing cards trying not to think of their fallen friend. Baharol, the fighter, sat beside Grantaire with a drink in his hand. Only two people had chosen to spend the evening sitting alone. Eponine, her cover blown, sat alone at one end of the barricade deep in thought; thoughts of a young man with dark hair and a face of freckles. The man in her thoughts, Marius Pontmercy, sat alone elsewhere reading and rereading the note from his love Cosette. The volunteer, one Jean Valjean, stood in the café watching over those young souls so willing to lose their lives for all that they believed in. In this moment of desperation, he looked to the one scene that warmed his old heart.

Near the base of the barricade, a collection of empty wine crates made a makeshift bed in this moment. It was small and rickety but it was enough for the small boy who occupied it. Valjean recognized the boy as the cheeky gamin who had delivered Marius' letter to his door, the light of innocence and joy in his blue eyes as he smiled 'something for you, something for me'. He was so young, no older than ten years old. Obviously the warning to stay away from the barricade had fallen on deaf ears. Perhaps these students were all that he had; he wanted to remain loyal to them, loyal to the fight. The boy, who Valjean could now give the name of Gavroche too, was not sleeping in this moment. He just lay with his blanket tucked loosely around his petite frame, staring a few metres up the structure of the barricade to another young man. "Courf" Gavroche said, his little voice reaching across the silence to the young man in question.

"Oui mon petit" Courfeyrac smiled his gaze soft as he looked to the little boy. To Valjean the gaze was not one that a friend would give to another rather one that a father would have only for his son. The old man, there to protect Marius, didn't understand the relationships built between these young fighters. He had seen the tears in their eyes when the body of the fan-maker had been covered and laid in the wine shop and he could see a strong bond between this young man by the name of Courfeyrac and the child.

"When this is all over" Gavroche said sitting up and wiping at his tired eyes. "And we are all out of 'ere, will you do what ya promised?"

"Of course I will" Courfeyrac smiled gesturing for the young boy to come and sit with him "Come up here"

Gavroche smiled, deserting his blanket behind him as he climbed up the short distance to be taken into Courfeyrac's arms and brought onto his lap. "Ya mean it Courf?"

"Oui, petit chiot" Courfeyrac said kissing Gavroche's head. "When we get out of this and everything is safe again, me and you will go and get all the paperwork sorted out and it will be official"

"And you'll be my daddy" Gavroche said with a sleepy smile as he laid his head on Courfeyrac's shoulder.

"Forever, we can get that nice home out in the country you dream about, and I'll take you to the beach and teach you to swim" Courfeyrac said running a gentle hand up and down the gamin's back. "Adopting you is the first thing I will do when all of this is over".

It appeared now to Valjean as he watched from the cafe that many had seen the heart-warming scene between the two. Enjolras and Combeferre had small smiles on their faces; the card game had been halted for the exchange to be watched. Eponine, the gamin's sister, now wore a smile rather than a gaze that suggested that she was forever to be lost. It seemed that all of these young revolutionaries, so brave and loyal to the cause they had begun, all knew that Courfeyrac's words were true and that the fatherly love meant everything to Gavroche. Valjean didn't know the story of the street gamin or how he had come to be in the care of Courfeyrac but he could see both of them meant the world to each other.

Gavroche smiled brightly, snuggling close to Courfeyrac's chest, sinking into his hold. "I love you" He whispered, his words hidden slightly by a yawn that escaped him.

"I love you too" Courfeyrac smiled picking up another blanket and draping it around his boy, holding him close.

Grantaire, staring for a moment into his bottle before looking back at those around him, thought of how they had all came to be together. He didn't believe in the revolution but believed the words of Enjolras, the passion of his beliefs bringing Grantaire here to fight. The group had been together for many years by this point and had formed the bonds of siblings rather than of friends. They all had their beliefs but all wanted this revolution to succeed more than anything. Perhaps they all wanted this for different reasons. Grantaire wasn't sure what he wanted but he knew what others wanted, whilst he may not contribute to the fight much in his way, he listened and he understood the dreams and wishes of those around him. He knew Enjolras wanted to see a better world, a fairer world for everyone. When it came to Courfeyrac, the group's centre, Grantaire knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted to come out of this fight to a country that didn't allow children and families to die on the streets, he wanted a fairer treatment of those children, the children like his Gavroche. He was fighting for the children of the city who had no one to care for them. There were times when Grantaire wished that he had something so strong to fight for, as for now he fought with his friends, unwilling to leave them to the dangers when he could so easily take himself away to safety.

He drank to drown these dark thoughts, the thoughts that haunted him making him believe that everyone he cared about were going to fall in the fight. The alcohol blurred the thoughts; he didn't want them to control him. He wanted to drown everything dark, allowing himself to see the positive. From his seat near the foot of the barricade and through his alcohol blurred eyes he could see the passion in Enjolras, who remained standing to keep watch over his friends and his barricade. He watched Courfeyrac taking the little boy into his arms and taking about everything that they were going to have after this dreadful battle was over. They were so close, like father and son, they always had been. Grantaire could remember the day Courfeyrac had come to the café, pleading with Combeferre and Joly to come to his home to care for a child he had found in the streets. He had told them the tale of him finding the tiny boy, then seven years old, hiding in the thin back alley behind the home of Courfeyrac and Marius. Gavroche had been trying to hide from the cold and from the gang who had chased him for pickpocketing from them. He had been so small, so needy, that Courfeyrac couldn't leave him there to fall deeper into the cold of the night.

'God forbid' he thought to himself as he allowed another large swig of the strong wine to slide down his throat. 'God forbid something happens to either of them'. They needed each other, Gavroche and Courfeyrac. Everyone there needed each other in one way or another. Grantaire needed Enjolras to believe. Enjolras needed Combeferre for his guidance in the revolution. Joly and Bossuet had each other to level each other out, finding the balance in unluckiness and hypochondria. Gavroche needed Courfeyrac to care for him, to be a loving father to him and show him that there was someone who wanted him. Courfeyrac had Gavroche to give him a purpose, before him there was nothing more than the revolution and the girls who fell at the attractive young man's feet.

Lost in his thoughts and in the bottle in his hand, Grantaire tilted his head back to stare at the stars above him. The cynic, the non-believer found himself praying. 'Lord above, please, let us sees yet another day after the battle to come. Let Courfeyrac keep his Gavroche, dear Gavroche is only a child, a little boy who needs his father figure. Let them stay together, let them see their dream.' He prayed, looking back at Courfeyrac and Gavroche, the little boy sleeping soundly in his guardian's arms. 'Dear Lord, let the better world they all dream for come to them when the morning comes, let the light come in the morning when this all is over. And Lord, forever make sure that Fueilly and all that may join him in the fight yet to come are happy in your garden, make them the guardian angels for those left behind, allowing them to see this better world.'

**There we go, I hope you liked it. Please review and let me know, I take any feedback into consideration. I really would like to know if you all want me to continue this or not. **


	2. The storm after the calm

**Hello I'm back! **

**First things first, let me respond to my reviews **

**FreedomRose – Thank you for the lovely review! I really appreciate all of the help you have given me on this story and my other stories and I really enjoy our talks **

**Littlepeopleknow – I'm glad that you found it so adorable! I hope you like this too**

**Hoogan – I sure am carrying on! **

**Barricadegirl – Im glad you liked it so much! And thank you for your opinion and I hoped that you liked the update to Little Brother too! **

**LilyFra – I hope you like this new chapter! **

**So here we go!**

With cannons as thunder and the sparks of gunfire as lightning, the storm came after the calm of the night before. Grantaire couldn't handle it. With any thoughts of happiness drowned in the darkness of the battle, he fell into the bottle. The strong sweet alcohol blocked out the cries and shouts, but nothing could block out what he had seen. The National Guard obviously had no mercy when it came to looking into the youthful eyes of the fighters. They did not see the future that awaited these young people of the barricade, they only saw the orders that they had been told. To kill them in the streets until the cobbles were stained red.

Joly, the young doctor who never let his hypochondria stop him from helping others had been killed returning the barricade with an armful of bandages, ready to aid the wounded. He never made it back to the makeshift hospital he had created in the tiny back room of the wine shop. Bossuet, Joly's unlucky yet ever faithful companion had died minutes after his best friend. Wanting to continue the work dear Joly never got to complete, he had ran to collect the fallen bandages before they could be stained with the germs Joly so feared. A single shot to the chest ended this mission. The bodies of the dear friends were laid side by side.

Grantaire had known that more of them would fall in this battle. They were outnumbered. The cynic sat in the wine shop, a bottle in hand as he listened to the fighting unfolding around him. With his eyes closed, he couldn't stop seeing. He saw the pain in the eyes of his friends when Fueilly fell, he saw Jehan, the young poet, crying when he helped to lay Joly and Bossuet side by side. He saw the heartache of Courfeyrac as he pushed Gavroche back into the café in a vain attempt to keep his little boy safe. What sort of beast was the man who sent the guard to kill such innocent fighters? No one there wanted to be considered heartless in their willingness to kill for their beliefs. They took to the idea that if one had to die to aid the lives of more, it was a risk worth taking. Grantaire, staring into the thick dark liquid of the bottle, considered the National Guard to be the beasts of murder. If you feel comfortable killing those so young to put money in one's pocket, is your heart not black? Did these men go home after a day's 'work' and kiss their wives and children goodnight with smiles upon their faces?

Such deep and drunken thoughts could only be disturbed by a sound so earthshattering that it could break the very ground. Gunshots, perhaps, but it was not that in this moment. It was shouting, pained shouting through voices laced with fear and tears. "No! Come back!" came one voice whilst another shouted "Grab him, someone grab Courfeyrac!"

Grantaire stumbled from the wine shop, and his heart dropped to his stomach. Out in the open, in the cobbled area between the barricade and the line of the National Guard was little Gavroche. From the bodies of the fallen soldiers, he was taking small bags of bullets, a cheeky smile on his face. "Gavroche, come back, please" Courfeyrac gasped, tears in his eyes as he tried to climb of the barricade towards the child "No, no Gavroche"

The strong arms of Combeferre encircled the waist of the young man, pulling him back to stop him putting himself into danger. Everyone was shouting now "Gavroche, come back! Come on now!"

Gavroche looked back; seemingly oblivious to the warning shots being fired around him. He smiled such an innocent joyful smile that lit up his entire face as he grabbed the bags of ammunition to his chest. He was not afraid, Grantaire could not think of a time where he had seen the child afraid. "Come on" He said, whether it was a message to himself, willing himself to venture further out for more of the much needed bullets or whether it was a teasing message to the bullets being fired at him, it was unclear.

"Courfeyrac" Combeferre snapped, stumbling down the barricade to chase the centre that had ran to the opening. Courfeyrac could see now his little boy out in the most dangerous position, smiling, almost laughing at the guards that towered over him. "Courfeyrac come back!"

Bang!

A cry of pain escaped the little boy as his smile was taken away from him in a second. He fell to his knees, the bullet having pierced his shoulder. "Gavroche" Courfeyrac shouted, Combeferre now behind him again holding him back from running to the child. The wound hadn't stopped the child; determination covered every feature as he reached forward to one final bag of bullets.

Bang!

A scream as he fell back, a tiny body hitting the cobbles. The world of a young man shattering around him, there was no holding him back now. "Oh God no, Gavroche, petit" Courfeyrac said, tears running down his cheeks as he ran to the child he saw as his son. Gavroche had rolled onto his side, knees rolled up to his stomach as he tried to cover the bullet wound. "Gavroche, look at me"

He had gone so pale, tears in his big blue eyes refusing to fall. Courfeyrac bit his lip, placing a hand on the child's stomach only to realise his hand became instantly covered in blood. "Help!" Courfeyrac screamed, scooping the child up into his arms and cradling him like a baby. "Combeferre! Help"

Grantaire fell back against the wall of the wine shop, seeing the terrifying scene unfold around him. If the men were beasts to seek satisfaction killing young men, were they monsters of the underworld to consider it correct to willingly shot at a child? Unblinking he watched Courfeyrac run to Combeferre, the little boy bleeding in his arms. He couldn't watch this. He couldn't sit there and watch a child die in the arms of the man who adored him. He couldn't see Courfeyrac's heart break never to be repaired. He picked up his bottle, taking a big long swig. He needed this gone, he needed to block this out.

Combeferre, the guide, was normally so level headed and so calm. No, he couldn't stay calm. Courfeyrac stood before him holding Gavroche in his arms. The child was conscious despite the blood pouring from the bullet wound in his stomach. He was crying heavily, his whole body heaving. Courfeyrac was crying, unable to speak. He didn't need to speak. Combeferre could see the pain in his eyes, the begging for him to save his little boy. He nodded putting an arm around Courfeyrac's shoulders and leading him through to the makeshift hospital. "Lay him down, I need to get the bullet out" He said, trying to stay as calm as he could.

Courfeyrac nodded, laying Gavroche down on the table sitting beside him looking at his little face. One hand held tightly to his and the other threading through the little boy's hair. "Breath, deep breaths petit, shh" He said, trying to calm himself in order to calm the child. "Combeferre's going to make it better"

The young doctor did not want to promise anything. He didn't know what he could do. The child had already lost a lot of blood, growing paler and more cold by the minute. "Take this" He said, holding a bottle of thick medicine to the child's lips. "It will help"

Gavroche nearly gagged at the taste to the medicine, whimpering as he clung to the hand of his much loved guardian. "Courf, it 'urts!" He cried

"I know, mon petit chiot" Courfeyrac whispered kissing his head. "Deep breaths, just look at me, I'm not going anywhere"

"I can't give him any more medicine Fey" Combeferre said solemnly "His body can't take anymore, it's too strong, and it will make him sick. I have to get the bullet out now and seal the wound. Stay close, try and hold him still"

Courfeyrac bit his lip, gently placing his hands on Gavroche's cheeks. "Be brave, you are so brave. My little revolutionary" He said softly. "You can do this"

Gavroche screamed feeling Combeferre moving to remove the bullet. "Stop please!" He cried

"I'm so sorry petit" Combeferre said struggling to find and remove the bullet. "Stay still for me, well done"

"That's it, keep looking at me" Courfeyrac whispered, stroking his cheeks. "You are doing so well"

The pain surged through him, and Gavroche wanted nothing more than to scream and cry. He had to be brave for Courfeyrac. He whimpered, struggling to keep his eyes open. "Daddy" He gasped "Daddy, I can't"

"You can, I know you can, you are so strong 'Roche" Courfeyrac pleaded kissing his forehead, trying not to watch Combeferre remove the bullet and prepare to seal the wound "Combeferre, why is he getting so pale?"

"His body can't handle the pain, it's too much" Combeferre sighed.

"Please Gavroche, stay with me" Courfeyrac said softly, continuing to talk gently and lovingly to his little boy as Combeferre stitched the wound and wrapped bandages around his tiny frame.

"That is all I can do Courfeyrac, the rest is all on him" Combeferre said kissing the child's cheek.

"Keep fighting petit chiot" Courfeyrac whispered cradling Gavroche to his chest "Keep fighting and we will be together when all of this is over. I will keep that promise to you, no matter what. I love you"

"I love you daddy" Gavroche whimpered, clinging to him with all the strength he had left. "Daddy.."

His body could handle it no longer. The pain was too much. Cradled in the arms of the man he saw as a father, he fell into unconsciousness.

**Please review and let me know what you thought!**


	3. The promises I make

**Hey everyone, sorry for the delay in the update. Everything has been so busy lately and I haven't had the time to write. I hope that this update makes up for the long wait. **

**I hope you enjoy this. **

Innocent, he looked so innocent. The child seemingly asleep cradled in the young man's arms. If it wasn't for the sound of gunfire, the sight of bodies covered in dirty sheets and the blood stained bandage wrapped around the child's thin torso, you could think that was the scene. A child sleeping in his guardians arms. The rise and fall of the small boy's chest was the only comfort to Courfeyrac, Gavroche wasn't gone, there was still breath, there was still life, and there was still hope. And that was all that the young man could hold onto. The child was nine years old and in the silence of this moment, Courfeyrac found himself mentally cursing himself. Why didn't he send Gavroche away? Send him to safety. To Gavroche, the Amis were his heroes and Courfeyrac had simply allowed him to see his heroes, his friends, killed here on this lonely barricade. He allowed this child to be hurt to the point of near death.

"Monsieur Courfeyrac" said a feminine voice from the door, looking straight into Courfeyrac's dark tear filled eyes as the young man looked up. Eponine too had tears streaking down her cheeks as she looked to her hurt little brother, looking so small and so weak. "Is he goin' to be alright?"

It was a question that Courfeyrac had been dreading. If Combeferre, the training doctor, had not been able to give him a straight answer when he had asked the same question, how could Courfeyrac now give Eponine the answer that she so wanted to hear. As much as he wanted to say that little Gavroche would be up and about, racing down the streets of Paris like the free spirit he is in no time at all, that was not the answer he was able to give. Seeing her standing there, hand's clenched and looking down at the ground, he knew that he had to be honest about this even though each and every word was bitter in taste as they poured from his tongue. "He's strong" He said, holding Gavroche tighter to his chest, anxious to feel that breath and that heartbeat. "He's fighting, Eponine, he was and is so brave. He told me he couldn't do it but he did. He stayed strong, allowing Combeferre to do what he had to. He's resting now, his body is resting, he needs to regain his strength, and he needs to rest"

She nodded. "He is one of the strongest people I know, and he is no more than a baby of the streets. He's been strong since the day he was born, he's never stopped fightin'" She replied

"Guards approach, arm's ready" They heard a shout from outside

"The national guard approach Courfeyrac, what if they find him? They will take no mercy on an injured child" Eponine said, the tone of panic laced in her voice.

"If they had any mercy at all, they would not have shot a gun upon a child in the first place" Courfeyrac solemnly. "You need to take him Eponine"

"Take him, where can we go?" She said taking a step closer to him and putting her arms out to take Gavroche.

"Go to mine and Marius home, you know the place. It isn't grand, and not entirely suitable but there is a bed for Gavroche to rest upon" Courfeyrac replied, gently placing the unconscious Gavroche in her out stretched arms. "Hold him close, I want him to feel safe"

"What do I tell him when he wakes and no longer sees you beside him?" Eponine asked, nestling Gavroche against her chest. "You mean everything to him, he doesn't need me, and he needs you"

"Tell him I will see him again soon, when this is over, the end is coming, I will come back for him. I will come and get him and sort the paperwork. He will be my little boy and we can all go out and find that country house he dreams of together" Courfeyrac said softly brushing hair away from Gavroche's head and planting a gentle kiss on the boy's forehead. "No matter what happens here tonight Eponine, I won't leave him, I won't abandon him. I promised him that we will be together after all of this is over. I can't and I won't break that promise to him"

"It's taken nine years but I can see now that Gavroche has finally found a father who loves him" Eponine said watching the young man and the child. "And that means everything to him"

Courfeyrac nodded, taking a last look at Gavroche's little face, so young and innocent. "I do love him, I have since the moment I met him and to be the one who will give him a home and a family who treats him like he deserves means everything to me" He said. "Go now, before the guards see you, get to safety. When he wakes tell him that this wasn't a goodbye, but it was simply an I will see you again soon, mon petit, I will see you again soon"

"I will tell him when he wakes Courfeyrac" Eponine said softly as Courfeyrac wrapped a blanket around Gavroche. "I will do everything in my power to keep him safe, he will wait for the moment you come back"

"Thank you Eponine, go now please" he replied, unable to bear to say farewell once more. "Take the back streets, don't let yourself be seen"

She nodded, holding Gavroche as close to her chest as she could. As she carried the child from the makeshift hospital, she could feel the eyes of everyone on her. She could see Enjolras, Combeferre and Marius preparing the guns at the top of the barricade, taking a moment to look at her. She saw Baharol and Jehan looking to the ground then to Gavroche, she could almost hear their thoughts 'that poor child'. As she sunk into the shadows of the twisted alleyways she knew so well, she spotted Grantaire staring into his bottle, all the belief that the leader Enjolras had given him lost. He was lost, the bottle in his hand acting as the anchor keeping him in place. Before she sunk completely out of their sight, she looked back over her shoulder. Courfeyrac stood in the doorway of the wine shop, leaning on the doorframe. She knew that he was trying to stand strong, be the centre that the group so terribly needed but she could see that his strength was gone. She felt sick to the pit of her stomach as she looked into his hurt filled eyes and saw the tear tracks staining his cheeks. With a sigh that shook her entire body, she took one final look at the dark haired young man. "We will see you again soon Courfeyrac, we will be waiting to see you again"

…

It was a losing battle, the barricade was taken. They were outnumbered; no one had come to support their fight. Enjolras had thought that the city would come to the fight. He had seen the support they had received at the rallies. They all had stood so strong at those rallies, standing on their makeshift stages giving their speeches at the inspiring those that they were fighting for. Now, Enjorlas felt ill. Only three of them remained now.

Dear Jehan, the young softly spoken poet, had been taken hostage by the National Guard. "End this now or we kill him now" They had said. He had been so brave telling them to keep fighting, to not give up just to spare his life. He was so loyal, willing to die so that they could continue with their fight. No it seems that the young poet had given his life to a lost cause. Baharol, the fighter, had been killed climbing the barricade. A Cannon was fired, the fighter who lived only to protect his friends died trying to do just that. Enjolras had seen Marius shot, he had seen him fall. He had seen the volunteer lift him into the safety of his arms. He didn't see where they went, but he hoped that they were safe now.

"You have nowhere to run now, why throw your lives away?" A member of the guard shouted. Enjolras looked back to see Combeferre and Courfeyrac standing beside him, united. The chief, the guide and the centre. Combeferre had always been there right beside Enjolras, through the planning of the revolution and now as they tried to fight. Courfeyrac had always been so willing and so driven in their fight and Enjolras knew why. From the moment Gavroche had shown Courfeyrac where he lived, a rat infested elephant statue in the slums of san Michelle, Courfeyrac had wanted to fight to give the children who had nothing that entire he had been given when he was a young child. He had been given a lovely home, an education, food and love. They didn't have any of that. Babies of the streets, left to fend for themselves when everything was fighting against them. "Why throw your lives away?" The guard repeated.

"Here, this way" said a whispered voice, loud enough to catch the attention of the three young men as they hid in the wine shop standing side by side. As they turned, they came eye to eye with the volunteer. His clothes now were stained in mud and blood, and he appeared out of breath. "I can get you to safety; a fiacre waits with a loyal driver. He needs to get his family out to the country for the health of his children; he is willing to take you also. You can start again.

"You are kind monsieur, but how can we throw the fight away now?" Enjolras asked.

"You can hear the guards, shouting for your blood. They want to see the street we stand upon stained red. The battle is lost, there is no more fighting to be done now. Would your friends who already sit in the garden of the lord wish to see you die or wish to see you go on to continue your work. One day the country to embrace your beliefs. Come now" Valjean stressed. "We have little time"

"He is right, if we go now we can continue our work elsewhere. In the honour of the friends that we have lost" Combeferre said. "We have not abandon this fight; we can done all that we can. Our friends may have lost their lives, but we can continue to fight with words in their memory."

"Come now friends, let us leave this sight and find safety. The fiacre cannot wait, the guard is approaching" Valjean said "Come now"

"If we must, dear Combeferre you speak the truth as usual. We should continue to fight in the honour and in the memory of our friends. Let them know that they did not die in vain." Enjolras nodded, sighing deeply. "Come now, Combeferre, Courfeyrac"

"I can't" Courfeyrac breathed, leaning back against the wall as he listened to the sound of the approaching guard. "I can't leave"

"We have too, time to running out Courfeyrac. Come now and we can fight again elsewhere. Our fallen friends would not want to see us fall now" Combeferre said

"This isn't about the fighting" Courfeyrac said, passion in his words. "I promised Courfeyrac I would go back to him when all of this is over. I told him it wasn't a good bye. I cannot break a promise I made to him, he needs me"

"Courfeyrac" Enjorlas breathed. "I know you made that promise to him, and we can come back. Just not now. If we were to go to him now, we would be found and hung for our crimes to the king."

"If we go now, we can come back when the guard retreat. The police will not search forever. We can come back when it is safe" Combeferre nodded. "Come now Courfeyrac, you can still keep your promise".

"I can't, I will run the back streets to him. I have to go to him" Courfeyrac stressed, pulling away as he felt Enjolras and Combeferre move towards him to direct him in the direction of the fiacre. "I can't leave him!"

**And there we go, so please write a review and let me know what you think of this **


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